Promenade
by Chiriru
Summary: If Clark had know it was the last time he'd see her, he would of followed his physical instincts that night. Chlark, Clois


No beta, so if there are a bunch of errors blame impatient me. Somewhat stream of consciousness. That fic from the other day, yep-yep. Smallville, Chlark. Slight Clois/LnC shout-outs and a brief Clana mention. A brief thanks to Markle for the title.  
  
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Promenade by Chiri  
  
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If Clark had know it was the last time he'd see her, he would of followed his physical instincts that night. Maybe he would of been able to prevent what would happen the next morning. Or, maybe he wouldn't of been able to stop it either. He wasn't sure but its one in a long line of regrets he has about her. But, he knows the biggest one was of that night.  
  
He has that image of her impressed in his mind anyone so much implied her name, it was that look that popped in his mind. Standing there, on her porch steps in her senior prom dress, a splashy blue-purple concoction with silver glitter adoring it; a tight bodice that made her look more grown up than he'd ever seen her. Little butterfly clips pulling on one side of her hair back, allowing the star light to sparkle off her grinning face.  
  
Chloe had come with him, Pete, and Lana that evening. His six month relationship with the brunette had ended very abruptly a few weeks ago, but they had an understanding it seemed. The large limo that Lex provided had led them to their last hurrah as high schoolers in style.  
  
Chloe, now the only female in Gabe Sullivan's house, was the last to be picked up. In her tradition, she went strapless and looked just.... Looking back, Clark remembered just how visibly awed he had been. Chloe Sullivan, at that moment, had finally, trully turned from the small, talkative either grader to a beautiful, mature woman. She was amazing. He couldn't take his eyes off fo her for the rest of the night.  
  
It had taken some cajoling, but he had gotten to dance with her. It was really the first time they had been in a similar situtation since their freshman year, and it was scary. She smelled faintly of her kiwi shampoo and her pear scented soap. And something else too, something familar, but different. The whole experience was familar but different.  
  
And, for once, Clark liked that. Chloe was brand new but just the same as she ever was. Or maybe he was finally looking through another set of eyes, or opening up the box he had shoved everything pertaining to her in for years.  
  
And when the dance was almost through, they snuck out through the Torch Office windows and ran through the play ground. A game of tag that lead them all over the school grounds, and Clark never really had caught her. On the other hand, he wasn't exactly try too hard either. The sand and the asphault had perminately scratched his dress shoes. But seeing Chloe swing, looking up at him in the moonlight, with her full-lenght skirt billowing was more that worth it.  
  
Clark walked her home, ingadging in idle chit-chat along the way. She held her strappy sandles in her hand, padding along on grass in bare feet as they walked side by side. Sometimes she'd balence herself on ther curb as if it were a tight wire; he had put his hand behind her back to catch her if she fell. She never did. It was close, friendly, and it was just *good*. He remembers smiling over at her, and her green eyes glittering back at him in happiness.  
  
He had a feeling that they would live forever.  
  
The song had been by Remy Zero, and he had claimed that it was their song. She had accepted his hand, looking a bit hurt and a bit mad at first. But she had slipped her arms around his neck, and he brushed his finger tips along her warm back. Her head rest right on his shoulder, her blonde hair contrasting with the black tuxedo jacket.  
  
"Thank god the weather's good this year, huh?" she had asked, pulling back. He laughed, touching his forehead to hers. He was wearing a black tie again. Lana's dress was a firey red this year and that whole color just felt the wrong way to go. Red wasn't for Clark, not any more. He dipped her, low and long, and her laughter had bubbled up and filled the gymnasium.  
  
Digging through her purse, she had pulled out her large key ring, twirling it around her finger twice. Clark leaned up against a pillar on her house, starring at what his best friend had become. All the fights about his past and about the Luthors and about Lana and miscellanious boyfriends...faded.  
  
She started to speak and he was thrown five years into the past; a light brush of lips in a sunkissed barn. Her blonde hair had glowed as she stepped back and said her line, the smile on her face impossibly big and still covered with metal braces. Clark was really wearing a blue button-up shirt and jeans; Chloe, to his then surprize, was really wearing a dress *over* pants and her long purple coat was tossed on the couch. When she said his name, he was back to the present.  
  
Her lips were two shades away from the right color that night. He had looked, studied as she talked. And, leaning on that column, all he wanted to do was kiss it away. All the make up and satin and pretence that they had been weaving for half a decade.  
  
In that moment, he just wanted to be with her forever.  
  
He hadn't. Clark regrets that, now. Instead, he told her that they would be going to Met U in the same field in the fall. He figured she had already figured that out, but he got a grin and a hug anyways. A hug he had relished in, realizing that if he wasn't going to Metropolis that could very well been the last time he got one. It had been.  
  
He had seen her that very afternoon, and the hug he had gotten then hadn't made his heart race nearly as much. Chloe's faded jeans and ratty t-shirt cloaked everything she was; it had still been a disguise of friendship and of not changing. Nail polish in purple and silver had been strewn about as he turned his final article in. She had teared up when she talked about her paper, and he had held her for a brief moment.  
  
It was hard to think about the Torch without thinking of her. He still couldn't go in that room. Pete said they had to tear out the entier cork board and replace it because the Wall had mutilated it so. Supposedly the amount of push-pins they had collected off of it had supplied the school for two years. Clark didn't know about that either. He tried not to think of the Torch at all.  
  
As he huged her, she had tiptoed-up to reach his shoulders. Her toes were a deep purple with silver tips. Quintestentally Chloe, the best kind there was. He had looked into her silver-rimmed eyes, saying that he'd see her tomorrow and he couldn't contain his smile. He didn't trust himself to kiss her. She had agreed with a nod and a grin.  
  
As he walked home, he couldn't wait to see her. Whistling, he dawdled on his way home; Clark didn't want to rush any of this. This...this was different than Kyla and Lana and it was some how better. It was the most amazing thing and he couldn't put a finger on quite what the feeling was.  
  
He would take her to the Talon...or maybe not. Maybe a drive through the country side. Tomorrow he would tell her that he figured out the truth -- that the girl of his dreams was right beside him all along, wearing the guise of a best friend. He hoped that the door to her wasn't so far closed that he could never oepn it again.  
  
But, Clark had some bit of fear. He wonders if he would of turned around to see her again, if that would of stopped it too. He had chalked it up to nerves or some such silliness. She would of called it a premonition he thinks, looking back.  
  
Clark now knows that there is no such thing as nerves. That there is no reason to put anything off. Because, and he knows this all to well, tomorrow never really comes. He should of taken the coucelor's advice - carpe diem. Seize the day. It never comes again.  
  
Clark had slept in some; then did his chores. He'd gone looking for the laundry, searching for any blue shirt. Chloe liked blue, not red. He liked blue too, and so that was that. When he had finally found one, it was nearly 10 o'clock and he figured she was probably be at her offices for hours putting the last issue together. He had his shirt only half-buttoned when his mom had called him downstairs.  
  
When Clark got to the kitchen, he saw Gabe Sullivan. His eyes seemed abnormally puffy and Clark felt his stomach just drop. He knew. Before her father said a word, he just knew and was mad that he hadn't of just...just...  
  
Why didn't he *hear* it for godnesses sake?!  
  
Her body was... Gabe didn't want him or her other friends to see it; Clark, later, had been relieved. The drunk driver had gotten a fair sentance. Clark didn't think it was fair at the time; he doesn't think it's fair now. Chloe shouldn't of died, she shouldn't still be dead.  
  
Sometimes, he wonders if the whole reason he likes Lois is because it's Chloe all over again. He flips the box over in his pocket, once. That's a silly thought, but perhaps there is some credence to it. Lois is Chloe, without all the mistakes and outright lies. Yet, Lois is still very much Lois at the same time. The wind has picked up some, and Lois snuggles further into his arm. She stands still for a moment and instead of her cousin, he sees the perky blonde in her prom dress smiling at him. Asking him for one last slow dance on her front porch. Lois looks up at him in actuality, tearing the illusion. He doesn't mind it so much. She is no less than the illusion, she isn't a replacement. And he loves Lois, he really does.  
  
'Carpe Diem, Clark,' he thinks. 'Tomorrow will be to late.' He had waited with Chloe and then she had left. He couldn't afford to let Lois leave too; today was just to close to the same. No, he thought coming to a halt. Clark was going to ask her how he feels right here, right now. As he should of all those years ago. He wasn't going to let Lois slip through his fingers too. He cleared his throat before he began.  
  
"I've been thinking about how when something bad happens, it makes you realize that most of what you spend your days worrying about doesn't matter at all..."  
  
-- end -- 


End file.
